


The Perfect Combination (Has to Start Somewhere)

by Iansthugmuffin



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, random AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 04:28:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5525384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iansthugmuffin/pseuds/Iansthugmuffin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A little Ian/Mickey AU that is loosely based off of this prompt that I found on tumblr: “we were playing in the snow and you suddenly tackled me to the ground and now…we’re just…staring… at each other…”</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Perfect Combination (Has to Start Somewhere)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bellafarella](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellafarella/gifts), [sweetstrawberryheadache](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetstrawberryheadache/gifts).



> I wrote this a few weeks ago when I got a random burst of Ian & Mickey feels. So I'm gifting it to my lovely fandom friends =) It's kind of really eeehhh but yeah I hope you guys like it!! (I wasn't sure if all of you had Ao3's so yeah, it is for all of my fandom friends though lol.)  
> MERRY CHRISTMAS, MY LOVELIES.
> 
> Idek what's up with that title tbh.

Mickey Milkovich was having the shittiest day of his life, which was really saying something because, all things considered, every day of his life was shit. But this one really took the cake. He didn’t want to think about it now though. No, he was going to go home, kick back with a cigarette and a beer, and finally relax. Unfortunately, however, fate had different plans in mind.

It was the tail end of the afternoon in the middle of December. The weak winter sun had almost completely sunk out of sight, leaving the already cold air feeling even bitterer. Mickey kicked angrily at the blackening snow that covered the streets of Chicago. It hadn’t snowed for days, but it also hadn’t gotten warm enough for any of it to melt, leaving it a nuisance to Mickey and anyone else who hated winter.

Deciding to forgo waiting until he was home to light a cigarette, Mickey pulled one out from the pack in his pocket. He finally got it lit, which was hard to do with shaking hands, and took a drag – reveling in the calm in gave him. He didn’t have long to walk now, only a few more blocks. Just as he was rounding the corner of a convenience shop, he slammed into something tall, very solid, and _very_ about to get its ass kicked.

Without thinking more than the two seconds it took to process that the solid tall thing was indeed a person, Mickey swung a punch. He didn’t usually attack people for simply being in his way, but this was a shitty day and he had the right.

The guy stumbled back. “What the fuck, asshole?”

Mickey didn’t reply, he simply lunged forward to give it another go. But this time the other guy was ready. He hit Mickey square in the nose, causing blood to trickle out.

The guy apparently hadn’t meant to punch so hard, and almost immediately began apologizing. “Shit, man. I’m so sorry.” He brushed a strand of his orange hair from his face and offered Mickey a hand. “Let’s just both walk away from this, alright?”

Mickey was fuming. Sure, he was overreacting, but who the fuck did this guy think he was? Trying to be all civil and shit in the south side of Chicago? Fuck no. Mickey sucker punched him and the guy stumbled back, tripped on a piece of ice, and fell to the ground with a thud. Mickey took the opportunity to tackle him all the way, getting a good grip around his neck. The other guy swung his arm around, punching Mickey in the jaw. The two continued on like this, fighting but not really trying to kill each other, for another minute or so before they both finally gave in to the urge to quit.

Mickey looked down at his now bleeding hands, which were still wrapped (loosely) around the other guy’s neck, and noticed little snowflakes landing on them. He laughed. “It’s fucking snowing.”

He felt the other guy laugh too, it rumbled through him and Mickey was suddenly reminded that he was still straddling a guy for no legitimate reason. He looked down at the man lying there and paused – the dude was fucking gorgeous. He had red hair that was now a mess, strands were loosely covering his face. He also had green eyes that probably the prettiest fucking shade of green Mickey had ever seen. But nothing compared to the freckles splayed across his face, and how nice they looked with snow gently landing on them. And then his lips…

No. Fucking no. Now was not the time to be having gay thoughts, especially about the guy he just beat up for no good reason. Jesus Christ.

Mickey ran his fingers through his own black hair and moved to stand up. “I’m uh, I’m sorry ‘bout that. It’s just been a rough day and I guess I’ve been a fuse ready to blow all day.” He offered the guy a hand, and then tacked on: “I’m Mickey, by the way.”

The other guy wrapped his hand around Mickey’s (he tried not to think about how nice this guy’s hands were) and shrugged. “Nah, it’s cool. It felt good to beat someone up.” He smiled, and Mickey thought his heart was going to explode from his chest. “And, I’m Ian.”

Mickey felt his own lips tugging upwards. “You think you won that, huh? Think you’re some sort of tough guy?” He wasn’t sure why he was still even _talking_ to the guy, but it felt right.

Ian raised an eyebrow, his smile now turning into a bit of a smirk. “Oh? And you think _you_ won?”

Mickey laughed. “Hey, man, no need to be a sore loser.” Without thinking before he spoke, Mickey continued on. “How ‘bout I buy you a beer to settle this shit?”

“Yeah, alright.” Ian said, then he got this weird look on his face. Mickey was about to ask him if he was okay, but before he got the chance a pair of lips were insistently pressing on his own.

Mickey’s mind short circuited and the only thought in his head was ‘holy fuck I could kiss this guy for the rest of my life’. But almost as soon as the lips were there, they were gone again and Ian took a few steps back. “Look, man. I didn’t meant to..um.. well I don’t usually just go around kissing every hot guy I see..”

Usually Mickey would be pissed off if some asshole kissed him in the middle of the south side of Chicago. But this time he really didn’t care. He stepped forward, grabbed at Ian’s coat, and connected their lips again – interrupting Ian’s (poor) explanation.

They were fucking kissing in the snow, how cliché and stupid could this day get?

When they parted the second time, Ian huffed out a laugh. “So I take it you aren’t mad that I kissed you then?”

Mickey couldn’t help laughing too. “Nah, man. I don’t usually kiss random guys either but you’re… different.”

Ian quirked an eyebrow. “Different?”

Mickey shrugged, not really being able to explain it. But there was something about this guy…

“So, still want that beer?” He asked, interrupting his own thoughts.

“You’re not going to offer to buy me dinner? No five star restaurant?”

Mickey felt guilty for a moment before he realized that Ian was joking. This situation just got weirder and weirder. “Fuck off, man. I don’t got the money for that shit.”

Ian smiled again and Mickey decided in that moment that this guy’s smile was the brightest, most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“Alright, alright. Beer it is. Lead the way, Mick.”

Mick.

Mickey couldn’t bring himself to call the guy out on giving him a nickname when they’d only just met ten minutes earlier. They’d already kissed for fuck’s sake.

He cleared his throat, suddenly feeling nervous, and began walking towards The Alibi. His favorite place to go.

They didn’t hold hands or any of that shit, they’d only just met. But after only a few minutes of walking they both fell into comfortable conversation, marveling at how incredible it was that they hadn’t met before since they both grew up in the same area.

When they finally reached the steps of The Alibi, they found a man, Frank, nearly passed out on the side of the road. He was drinking Jack Daniels and he had a bottle of orange juice in his other hand. “Jack Daniels and orange juice, doesn’t make sense. Doesn’t sound good. But s’fucking perfect.”

Mickey and Ian continued on inside, ignoring Frank on the side of the road. (Frank who, Ian later confessed, was a part of his family.) But as Mickey followed Ian, and his mop of red hair, into the building, he couldn’t help but wonder if there was some truth to Frank’s statement.

Maybe Jack Daniels and orange juice _was_ perfect. Mickey shrugged the thought off and slid onto a stool next to Ian. Only time would tell.

**Author's Note:**

> Soo yeah that was fast paced & lame ahaha. Anywayyy.
> 
> ~[My Tumblr](http://surfypercy.tumblr.com)
> 
> Aaand I got the prompt from http://surfypercy.tumblr.com/post/133808521033/blakesmilitia-im-always-a-slut-for-a-christmas. (The linking thing isn't working )


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